


Secrets

by PanWuthAPlann



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Author not trans, Field Trip, Flash is less of a dick, Flash says sorry, I have no life so, Identity Reveal, Irondad, Stark Tower, Trans Peter, little bit of action, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 20:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19185175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanWuthAPlann/pseuds/PanWuthAPlann
Summary: It wasn't supposed to be like this.𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.But as he stared down the barrel of the gun, and he felt rather than heard the soft whimpers of panic of his classmates, Peter knew he had run out of time.He had to make a decision- was it his secret identity? Or the life of Eugene Thompson?———Another field trip fic, and another trans Parker fic, because why not? I own nothing- plot only.Cross-posted on Wattpad





	1. I

Peter Parker knew from the moment he walked into his sixth period chemistry class something was going to happen. He had no idea if it was good or bad. The hairs standing on the back of his neck screamed bad, but the excited smile and cheerful glint in Mister Harrington's face contradicted that idea entirely.

He spent the entirety of class fidgeting, eyes shifting back and forth rapidly. He went on autopilot, finishing any assigned work and ignoring Flash in favor of keeping a close eye on the surrounding area. His enhanced senses picked up nothing unusual, but he was never too sure. 

When the twenty on the clock hit, ten minutes before school ended, Mister Harrington called for everybody's attention. 

"As you know," he said, shifting from foot to foot, "the science department plans a special trip for the end of each year. Last year was Oscorp, and the year before was Harvard. This year, however, is special. This year, midtown high received a special opportunity to visit one of the top research facilities this side of the United States. Tourists rarely get the opportunity to enter the building, and even the faculty have extreme security measures." He picked up a stack of white sheets and began distributing them, trying and failing miserably to hide his smile. 

It became clear how big a deal it was when the murmuring erupted, starting with a few people before escalating through the entire class. Peter eyed the paper warily as it was handed to him. Then the blood drained from his face. 

Printed in fine black letters were five words he never wanted to see in one sentence; **Where To: Stark Industry Tower**. He swallowed thickly, immediately feeling his mouth become dry. Ned grabbed his shoulder, vibrating with pure excitement. 

"Dude," he hissed, waving the paper, "we're going to the Avengers Compound! How freakin' cool is that?" Peter let out a defeated sigh, sinking down in his seat. It wasn't cool. It wasn't cool _at all_. The last thing he needed was to be recognized and put in the spotlight. He hated being the center of attention. And he hated the fact that he could possibly run into one of the Avengers and have the rest of his high-school career ruined for good. 

"What's the matter Parker?" Flash's familiar voice filled the boy's ears, sending another spike of dread through him as the taller boy leaned against his table. "Don't want to go? I wonder why?"

"Shut up, Thompson," MJ snapped. The boy paid her no mind, leering eyes locked on Peter. 

"Worried we're gonna' find out about you? That you're gonna' get caught up in that little lie of yours? 'Oh, look at me, I'm Tony Stark's personal assistant'." He mimicked Peter's voice, deliberately bringing it an octave higher than even the smaller boy's.   
Peter shrunk further in on himself, eyes downcast as he played with the edge of his paper. Flash growled and slapped the table. "I'm talking to you, Penis! Speak up, are you worried? I know I'm right- you're just a little attention whore, right?" His voice was lowered, the words spitting like venom that began to dissolve Peter's resolve. Licking his trembling lips, he sat up and looked the taller boy in the eye. 

"Shut up, Flash. It's real, my internship is real, you're just mad you weren't good enough to be picked for it." MJ snickered while Ned ducked his head, hiding his smile. Flash's lip peeled back in a snarl. 

"Watch yourself, loser," he snarled, stepping back. "I'll show the world what you are- a dirty little freak." He stomped away, and Peter let out a shaky breath. Ned squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, and MJ stuck her tongue out at Flash's back.   
The bell rang, and Mister Harrington had to shout over the stampede of students, reminding them that their review packets and permission slip were both due next Thursday at the very latest. Peter had a week to find a valid excuse not to show up.   
Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky. 

He spent the first two night ignoring the existence of the slip, burying it in the bottom of his bag alongside an old calculus assignments that he never turned in and granola bar wrappers. The third and fourth night, he un-crumpled it on his desk and stared at it. He stared and stared and stared, until his eyes watered, and the words were burned into his brain. 

The fifth night, May found it. And even worse than that, he found out that she knew about it through Pepper. Which meant Tony, and most likely every other Avenger on planet earth knew about it. Peter wanted to crawl into the ground and die.   
It was Wednesday after school, and Peter found himself into the lobby of Stark tower, his silver keycard glinting in the sun. He placed his backpack, phone and keys on the conveyor belt next to the metal detector and stepped through, swiping his card while he was at it. 

"Hello Peter. You're here a bit early- did you and Ned not do homework together?" Peter felt his cheeks burn lightly as he tugged on his backpack. 

"Not today, Friday. We both have to prepare for finals exams, and we barely get homework done as it is. Plus, I have to speak with Mister Stark."

"Very well," the AI responded. "Would you like me to alert him of your presence?"

"Sure."

The exchange was normal, comfortable. The people in the lobby were used to seeing the scrawny boy coming and going. They were used to the sound of Friday greeting and conversing with whoever she pleased. Peter shuddered at the idea of how they would respond to thirty high-schoolers. 

His fingers tapped against his thigh in a steady rhythm as the elevator climbed- thumb, index, ring, middle, pinky. They grew faster as he went higher. He could feel the onslaught of anxiety budding in his chest at the idea of not only confronting the Avengers but asking for them to do something- he wished he didn't feel the need to. 

But they were his family- something he didn't have a lot of. And if there was anything he learned with this family, it was that shit rolled downhill, and as the youngest, every single teasing remark trickled its way down to him. The last thing he needed was for them to bug him in Monday, the dreaded date of the field trip. 

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the interior of the Avengers lounge. The worn leather furniture and soft creams and greys of the area made it feel warm and homey, touches of each member scattered about making it feel like a real family room and not a top floor of the most expensive tower in the United States. 

He kicked his shoes off and placed them in a small cubby painted blue and red (Natasha insisted on everybody having a special place for their belongings- she ended up building personalized locker-like cubbyholes for everybody to put their shoes and whatever else in) and hung his backpack above it. He padded through the room to the kitchen, where the voices of at least four members echoed out of.   
Sam was standing at the stove, laughing at something Steve said, who was leaned against the counter next to him, and Tony and Bruce sat at the island in the middle, sipping on what looked like the health smoothies Natasha insisted they all drank at least once a day. 

"Hey kid," Tony called out as he noticed the teen. "Why don't you come on over and join us for a smoothie. This one isn't so bad today. Kinda' tastes like fruit salad, but a little dirty. Probably beets or something. Those always taste like dirt." A small smile cut Peters face, and he took a seat on one of the barstools. Steve poured him a glass and slid it towards him, and Peter grimaced slightly at the earthy red color. It looked like wet dirt. There was no way it wouldn't taste like it too.

"So," Tony began, twisting to face the young hero. "What brings you here so early? You have at least another hour and a half." Peter swallowed down the mouthful of smoothie (it did taste like dirt, but he caught the undertone of strawberry and grape too) and wiped his lip with his sleeve. 

"I uh, I have a favor to uh, to ask you." Tony lifted a brow, eyes narrowing. 

"What's up?" Peter sighed and traced the rim of his glass with his pinky finger. 

"I know you know about the field trip on Monday," the sharp look he sent the billionaire shut him right up, "and I was hoping that you- well, all of you, might hold back on um... I dunno'... embarrassing me?" The last part came out soft and breathy, and Steve blinked, the only one to hear him. 

"What makes you think we would embarrass you, Petey?" The boy flushed, hunching his shoulders. 

"Well, you all are just... like that, y'know? Most the kids at school already don't believe my 'internship'-" he made air quotes around the word- "and I really just don't wanna' be embarrassed."  
Tony wrapped an arm around the teen, tugging him closer. 

"I'll try. I can't guarantee, but I'll try."

"And I'll make sure the others get the message," Steve supplied. 

"Thanks guys. I appreciate it." 

"Don't worry about it," Sam said, placing a bowl of Mac-n-cheese in front of Peter. "Most of us probably won't even be here. I know I won't, at least. I'm goin' to visit my mama down in New Orleans for the week- it's her birthday." Peter beamed at the man, touched by his sentiment. 

"Have fun," he responded. 

The rest of the day was easy- he got a head start on his work. Which meant finishing early, which meant extra time in the lab working on his suit. At six thirty sharp, he was ushered out the door and into Happy's car, sending him home. 

That night, he dreamt of Karen coming to life. She looked exactly like he imagined- Planktons wife, but as a dell laptop on a coat hanger.


	2. II

Monday morning was brisk, the wind kicking up and rattling through the budding trees. Peter shivered lightly and pulled his sweater closer, eyes scanning the horizon as the sun came up passed the clouds. 

His permission slip said to be at school by five at the very latest- a whole two hours before he even awoke to prepare for a normal day at school. Apparently, they were going to be there most of the day, eating both breakfast and lunch at the building. 

Peter's stomach was in his feet and his heart where is stomach should be. It was an uncomfortable, itchy sensation, and he knew (and was quite upset about it) that today would be a dysphoric day. Of course it would. Why wouldn't it be? 

Scraping his nails along the inside of his arm absently, he began to rock back and forth, bumping into Ned whenever he leaned back on his heels. The teen said nothing, allowing his best friend to try and release some energy, though he did grab his wrist to stop the scratching. 

Finally, at five fifteen on the dot, a sickeningly bright yellow school bus pulled into the bus lab. The doors hissed open, and out stepped Mister Harrington. 

"Alright class," he called out. Most of the students mumbled or groaned softly at his entirely too loud demeanor. "As we get on the bus, each of you is going to get a name tag sticker! Not only does it benefit the trip, but it helps me take roll so I know who will or will not be here. We're moving out in ten minutes, so if there's somebody who should be here isn't, go ahead and send them a text."

They shuffled into the bus, some kids complaining about the hour, others talking about how excited they were in hushed voices, theorizing about who or what they might see. Peter sat in the back and leaned against the window, letting out a soft puff of air that fogged the glass. MJ seated herself next to him, putting on a pair of wireless headphones and opening a book. Ned poked the back of Peter's neck. 

"Dude, do you think we'll get to see any of the Avengers?"

"Doubtful," he replied, nails scraping across his scalp. "Maybe Doctor Banner. But that's if he decides to check in on any of the physics departments interns, but he normally does that first thing in the morning and after lunch." Ned sat back in his seat, nodding.   
Flash twisted around in the seat in front of him, sneering. "You ready for me to show the world what a phony you are, Penis?" Peter rolled his eyes, sinking down in his seat. 

MJ patted his hand, shooting the bully a nasty glare. The bus ride was long and uncomfortable, the sound of students steadily getting louder coupled with the shaking of the bus making Peter dizzy and nauseous.   
Once the tower came into view, Mister Harrington stood in his seat, gripping the back of it for stability, and addressed the class. 

"So, first things first. I know you all know field trip etiquette. Don't touch anything, especially without explicit permission. Don't take photos without permission, don't wander off, have a buddy, yadda yadda yadda. You're all representing Midtown, so make sure you're on your best behavior. We want to get invited back, right?" The students cried out in agreement, and the bus pulled into the parking lot. They filed out, milling around the vehicle, then followed Harrington into the lobby. Peter ducked his head down, trying to avoid being recognized by any of the workers. 

"Bro," Ned hissed. "This is your chance to prove Flash is nothing but a douche. Hold your head up, you got this." The boy's hand squeezed his shoulder, and Peter took a deep breath and lifted his gaze. He flinched at Flash's cruel smirk, but other than that remained blank faced. Mister Harrington glanced down at his watch, exchanging looks with Miss Warren. 

"You must be Midtown!" Peters eyes widened at the familiar voice of a fellow intern, Samantha. She was a kind young woman, an undergrad at Harvard. She worked in business under Pepper, and Peter couldn't deny the small crush he had on her when they first met.   
She was twenty-two and had soft brown curls and intelligent green eyes. A smattering of freckles bridged her pert nose, and her lips were curled into a wide grin that revealed her braced teeth. She was dressed smartly, a black button down top and dark green vest, with black jeans and flats. 

"My name is Samantha, and I'll be your official guide for the day. Before we get started, my assistant Jeanie here-" She motioned to the short blonde at her side whom Peter only knew in passing- "will hand out today's schedule for you. It's relatively simple- we'll head up for breakfast first and foremost, and at six thirty we'll begin. We'll spend half an hour in the main lab of each science and engineering department, and then have lunch at one thirty sharp. Well then spend an hour in the museums area, and the last hour will go to visiting the head business office and having a small interview with Miss Virginia Potts herself."

Peter smiled in thanks when Jeanie handed him the paper. She nodded, patting his shoulder, and continued. Flash watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. 

"Before we begin, we have some ground rules. All cell phones must be turned off, absolutely no exceptions. Unless you're given permission by the head of each lab to interact with the workers or the equipment, you will stay out of their way and not touch anything. There are activities scheduled for each level, and your more than welcome to ask questions and take notes. Stay with the group, and if there's something you need, come to me or Jeanie and we'll take care of it."

Samantha approached the front desk, speaking with Miss Clark, the receptionist, softly. She came back with a stack of familiar lanyards, each with a white key card on the end. 

"These are your personal passes. Make sure you keep them visible at all times- the head of security isn't happy if he sees you without one." Peter snickered softly at the pun. "Now one at a time, come up here and tell us your name, and we'll give you your pass. You can ask questions after."

Peter lingered in the back of the group, his throat constricting with panic. The handing out of passes took ten minutes, each student showing off their name and picture on the front, some questioning the little blue bar at the bottom.   
Flash eyes Peter as the teen approached the older woman. 

"Hello Peter," he said happily. "It's nice to see you again, though it is a bit early. I don't actually have a pass for you-" every student began to murmur questioningly, Flash laughing in triumph- "But I assume you already have your pass on your person?" He nodded, pulling the silver card from his pocket. 

Flash went silent after the exchange, and Peter felt tears prick his eyes at the steady attention of each person. Even Harrington and Miss Warren had their eyes locked on him. This is exactly why he didn't want to come- he knew that nobody believed him, especially Flash, who always had to make a big deal out of everything. He just wanted to go home and crawl under the covers.   
Slipping the lanyard over his head, he stood a bit straighter as the silver rectangle rested between his clavicles. 

"Miss Samantha," one of the boys spoke up, raising his hand. "Why are our card white? And what's the blue bar on the bottom?" Samantha smiles, holding her own card up. It was a matte grey with a yellow stripe on the bottom. 

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Uh, Jackson."

"Well, Jackson, each card has a different color and bar to represent their entry clearance. Visitor passes, like yours, are white, and they always get deactivated after the recipient leaves the premises."

"So, we can keep these then?"  
"Yes. Your passes are Delta five. If you were a janitor or simple security guard, your level would go up depending on clearance. The next pass is the Gamma pass, like the one Jeanie has." The blonde held her light grey pass, with a solid black bar along the bottom. "The Gamma passes go from one to three, one being the highest level in every case. Gamma passes are reserved for lower level interns and higher access security. The Beta pass-" she held up her own dark grey pass with an orange bar- "is for higher level interns and lab heads. Silver passes are for all access, gifted to the head of security, the Avengers themselves, and any personal staff of Miss Virginia or Mister Stark." 

Every eye in the room refocused on Peter, or more specifically, the silver pass glinting in the morning sun. 

"What about the color bars?" Jackson spoke up again, still eyeing Peter. 

"Those separate the access levels," Jeanie said. "Except for Alpha passes, each Division has sub-divisions. Gamma has the most with five- blue, green, yellow, orange, and black. Gamma had three, with yellow, orange, and black. And Beta has two with orange and black. If you haven't noticed the pattern, black means the highest access, or a number one. Since the Alpha passes are for all-access, they have no bar."

Nobody bothered to look at Peter (Except Flash, but that was expected), and Samantha clapped her hands together. 

"Alright then. Now that all that's situated, why don't we all take a moment for you to turn off all your devices and step through security?"  
There was a shuffling of students, all digging out their phones to shut them off, including Peter. They stepped through the detectors one by one, scanning their cards as they went. A girl named Christine, who went first, jumped when Friday's voice filed the lobby. 

"Christine Jones, Gamma Five. Welcome to Stark tower." 

"Woah," she breathed, head swiveling back and forth. "Who's that?"

"That's Friday, the buildings AI. She notifies each and every person of duties, and if you have a high enough clearance you can request things from her as well." The students continued, each one lighting up when Friday read off their names. 

"Peter Parker, Alpha. Hello again, Mister Parker. You're here early, though I suppose it makes sense. This is your school, is it not?"

"Yeah, it is. Hi Friday." Flash began pushing through the crowd towards the teen. 

"Should I alert Mister Stark to your presence? I'm sure he'd love to welcome you."

"No, that's okay. He knows I'm here on a trip and promised not to bug me." Flash grabbed Peters shoulders, eyes dark. His fingers dig into the tender flesh, making Peter wince. 

"What the hell, Parker?" He hissed. "How'd you do that? Was it money? Or even better yet- did you get down on your knees?" Peter shoved the boy back, lip curling. 

"You're disgusting Flash. Leave me alone, I told you I work here." Flash growled but stepped off.   
Returning to the group, Peter took a steadying breath. Today was definitely going to be a handful.

 


	3. III

Peter managed to make it through most of the first part of the tour without any major embarrassment. One of the interns did, however, wrap him up in a headlock and give him a vicious noogie, cooing 'baby Stark' as he vigorously scrubbed his knuckles over Peter's scalp.   
Another intern asked for his help coding a bit she was working on. She couldn't seem to find the mistake that reversed the actions the bot preformed. Peter found it in five minutes. 

"Thank you so much," she laughed. "I can't believe I missed it! Geez, I feel dumb now."

"Don't say that," Peter responded, patting her hand. "You just needed a new pair of eyes is all. You're doing a great job- I'm sure Doctor Christianson will love it." They looked over at the lab head, who was debriefing the class on a project they were doing to see which partner group could make the best functioning robot. Flash stared at Peter, jealousy and rage thinly veiled within his eyes.   
It didn't take long for everything to fall apart. 

They were in the final lab, most of the students antsy as they waited for it to be over so they could go to lunch. The lab head, Doctor Amelia, was explaining the basis of their division- designing and improving Avenger weapons. 

Peter shifted uncomfortably, eyes roving the room over and over. His nerves where off the charts, skin itchy, hair on end. Not only was he nervous about being in that specific lab- after all, when he wasn't with Tony Stark, he was here- but his Spidey senses were telling him something very, _very_ wrong was going to happen. 

"Petey-pie!" A song-song voice filled the lab, and Peter flinched as the class turned around. Standing in the doorway was Clint and Natasha. 

"Hello, маленький паук. How are you?" Peter winced as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder, ignoring the thirty some odd students in the room. Clint thumped him on his arm, grinning wildly. 

"A little birdie told me you were babysitting today. Hope you're gettin' paid, Petey-pie, because that's a lot of students."

"I hope little birdie also said I asked you all to leave me alone," Peter grumbled, rubbing his arm. 

"Now where's the fun in that?" Natasha's tone was teasing. Her eyes shifted over to the horde of teens, smiling at the thirty identical faces of awe. "You must be Peters class. It's nice to meet you all. Clint and I would stick around, but we have some business to attend to, so maybe we'll see you later, yeah?" Ruffling Peter's hair, she left, dragging Clint behind her. Not a moment later, the class converged on him. 

"How do you know Black Widow?"

 _Rattling_. 

"What did she say to you?"

_Heavy breathing._

"Are you really friends with Avengers?"

_Tight. So tight._

"What kind of business would they take care of?"

_Stop! Stop, please!_

"Do you think Hawkeye would sign my phone case?"

 _Can't breathe._  

"Will you get a picture of them for me?"

 _Suffocating._  

"Peter!" The shaking stopped. Peter realized the others had fallen silent as he continued into panic, and it became very clear why.   
Red lights were flashing, a siren wailing a lament for the world to hear. The teen boy stiffened, eyes darting around in search of danger. A hand pressed against his, and he stared into the eyes of an intern, Celine. 

"Take this, take a deep breath." In his palm was a wireless transmitter, the kind he and the other hero's used while communicating in uniform. Pressing the device into his ear and inhaling deeply, he flicked it on. 

"-at's going on?" Natasha's voice was a wild growl in his ear. 

"I'm not a hundred percent sure," Tony replied. "Friday said there's intruders all along the east wing, scaling up the building. Some of them are already inside and taking hostages."

"Mister Stark?"

"Peter? Oh god, your field trip! Peter listen to me and listen to me well. You need to take your class into a safe room. Friday tells me the nearest one to you is two floors down, in Jameson's lab. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, yes sir."

"Good. Don't take the elevator, they've hacked into the building functions and are controlling everything. And Peter?"

"Yes?"

"Don't play hero. You get those kids to safety, and you take your ass with them, understand?"

"But Mister Stark, I can't just-"

"Do you understand?" Tony's voice was sharp, commanding. Peter swallowed, acquiescing. 

"Yes sir. I'm on my way down now." Pulling the comm from his ear and handing it back to Celine, he turned to his class. 

"What's going on?" The girl who asked it- Peter was pretty sure her name was Amanda- was crying. Along with many other students, boy and girl alike. 

"The building is under attack. There are intruders scaling the building and systematically making their way up from the ground floor while taking in hostages. I've been given direct orders to take you all to a panic room two floors down. Do you guys trust me enough?"  
MJ and Ned immediately stepped forward. 

"Always," MJ said decisively. The others looked around each other, fright clouding their senses. 

"We don't have time for you to decide, not right now," Doctor Amelia snapped. "You all need to follow him to safety this instant. Peter, some of my interns will be following you." He nodded, turning to the door. The woman grabbed his shoulder. "Stay safe, Parker. Don't be a hero."

"Don't you know, Doc? That's what I'm good at." He quickly left the room, heading straight for the stairwell. His class scrambled after him, along with half of the interns who were new to the building. 

They made it down a level when his senses went off. Holding a hand up and pressing a finger to his lips, he slowly crept down a few more steps. He crouched down to look through the handrails, and paled. Standing guard at the door was four men, dressed in heavy duty gear and armed to the teeth. Pulling back, he grabbed the arm of his teacher. 

"Mister Harrington, there are four armed men down there. We can't go through. We're gonna' have to go the other direction. Five floors up, there's another panic room. But I need you to make sure everyone is absolutely silent as we go up. We can't risk getting caught, not under these circumstances." Harrington nodded, and Peter noticed his pupils blown wide with fear. His hands trembled lightly. 

Taking a shaky breath, Harrington turned to the group. "Alright everybody," he whispered, just loud enough for them to hear. "We're gonna have to turn around and go up a few floor instead. This direction is dangerous. We need to keep as silent as possible, understand?" A sea of bobbing heads, a shuffle as they all turned. 

Peter moved to the front of the group, leading them up. Danger was all around them. He itched for his web-shooters. Longed for the protective layer of his Spider-Man suit. 

He should've known it wouldn't be so easy as 'turning around'. He was a superhero with enhanced senses for Christ's sake! He should've felt them coming, should've been prepared. But he wasn't. 

As the door creaked open, he felt his heart drop out of his ass as he made eye contact with another intruder. Cold black eyes bored into Peter's, and the boy laughed nervously. 

"I'm, uh, I'm just gonna', uh, close this n-now." He slammed the door, and one of the students screamed at the bang.  
Immediately, the door began shaking as the man in the other side tried to rip it open. Peter held on for dear life. He _couldn't_ let his class down. Not like this. He let go with one hand for a split second, shrugging off his backpack, and repeated the action on the other side. He kicked it backwards, wincing as it rolled down the steps. 

"Ned! In my bag!" Ned stared with wide eyes, fright painting his face red. 

"Are you sure? It's supposed to be a secret!" He picked up the bag, hands visibly shaking. 

"That doesn't matter right now! If I don't do something we might actually _die_!" Missus Warren looked between them, on the edge of hysterics. 

"I don't wanna' die," somebody shouted. 

"Then don't move." Peter froze at the sound of a man's voice, cold and hard. There was the clicking of a gun, and a whimper. The door stopped rattling, and Peter slowly lifted his hands, turning. 

At the bottom of the stairs was a man, holding none other than Flash in a headlock with a gun pressed to his temple. Flash's eyes were brimming with unshed tears. 

Peter felt as if he had been sucker punched in the gut, the feeling only getting worse as the door behind him opened up.   
"You're all coming with us," the man said coolly, ice blue eyes scanning the crowd. "And you aren't going to make a fuss either. Now, up you go." Peter sighed and followed the man at the top. 

The class shuffled out after him, whimpers and cries shaking Peter to the core. Ned subtly passed Peter his bag, and he unzipped a small portion and extracted what he needed. The only person to notice (besides Ned) was Mister Harrington, and he was confused. 

What was Peter going to do with two bracelets and a pair of _glasses_? Silently, the teen slipped them on, fingers flexing.  
The group was led to a conference room already filled with people. All of them were sitting on the floor, hands behind their heads. Peter's class joined them. 

The man never let go of Flash. Instead, he stared at Peter. "What're those, boy?" Peter knew he was talking about the glasses but stayed silent. "I asked what those are. You weren't wearing them before." No response. One of the other men pointed his pistol in Peter's face, eyes hard. 

"Answer the question boy, or you're not gonna' have a head for much longer." His lips parted, but no sound came out. Today was shit. He was supposed to be having a good time. It wasn't supposed to be like this. 

_It wasn't supposed to be like this._

But as he stared down the barrel of the gun, and he felt rather than heard the soft whimpers of panic of his classmates, Peter knew he had run out of time. 

He had to make a decision and quick. Pressing his lips together, he knew what he had to do. 

"How about you let Flash go and have me instead? After all, wouldn't it be more valuable to have Tony Stark's personal intern then some high-school boy?" The man pulled down the hammer, and Peter closed his eyes. A single tear escaped and trailed down his face. "Karen," he whispered. "Call Mister Stark." Not waiting for a response, he snapped a hand forward and snatched the gun, shoving it back into the man's chin with force and knocking him out. Shooting one arm out, he released a web that attached to the gun against Flash's head and tossed it over his shoulder. The room filled with screams as chaos unfolded. 

"Kid? What the hell is going on? I thought I told you to get your class to the panic room!"

"About that," Peter responded, backflipping off the wall to drop kick another man. "We sort of got trapped, and ended up getting taken in. I may have also blown my cover-" duck, kick, punch to the larynx- "But it was either that or let my classmate die so, it was a pretty obvious choice to me."

Swinging around, he launched a web at the two goons on the other side of the room, sticking them to the wall. He spun around, kicking another man who had lunged for him square in the jaw.   
The one holding onto Flash shoved the boy away and ran for Peter head first with a serrated knife in his hands. Peter scoffed, slinging a web to wrap around his ankles and make him face plant. 

"Oh please, come up with a better plan if you're gonna' run in like an ass." 

"Where are you, Underoos? I'm sending Cap your way right now."

"I'm, I think I'm on the first conference level, so level sixty-five? I think the numbers in the door read eight-fifty-six."

"Alright. Hold tight, he's comin' up." The billionaire hung up, and Peter turned to face his class. 

"I'm really sorry guys," he apologized softly. "I wasn't paying enough attention and put us all in danger." His eyes met Flash's, and he clenched his jaw. "Can you forgive me?" Flash scoffed, stranding toward the younger teen. 

"Forgive you? What makes you think we _wouldn't_?" Of it weren't for you, we'd all be dead right now. Not to mention all the people you've saved before..." His voice cracked, and he averted his eyes. "If anyone should be asking forgiveness, it's me. We wouldn't have been caught if I hadn't stayed behind. I wanted to play hero, and almost got my head blown off. And all this time..."  
Peter pressed his lips together, sighing heavily through his nose. 

"Later." 

He moved around the room, attending to people and answering questions. The one that kept coming up was the ever present 'are you really Spider-Man?' 

The door burst open, and Peter perked up as Steve and Bucky entered the room. 

"Is everyone okay? Are there any injured?"

"Just a bit of fright is all, Captain Rogers, sir," MJ responded. "It could've been a lot worse if Peter hadn't been here, though." 

The boy smiled as Steve approached him. "Are you hurt?"

"Not at all."

"Good." Peter gasped when the large man embraced him, but quickly relaxed. He didn't realize just how much energy he had used until that moment. The buildup of anxiety, the dysphoria, the adrenaline crash- his bones felt like putty.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably a third of the length, but I just needed a wrap up.

The students all sat in the floor in a circle, munching on food they got delivered from the cafeteria downstairs. The giant conference table was pushed to the side, and Pepper sat in front of them all, alongside Tony, Steve, and Peter. Soft murmurs filled the room, some people still traumatized by the attack, others in awe of Peter. 

"Now," Pepper started, placing her empty sandwich wrapper down next to her. "First, I would like to formally apologize on behalf of the Stark industries. We weren't prepared for a uniform attack like this, and we put your lives in danger. But what's most important is that none of you are hurt." Some of the students nodded in agreement, chewing their sandwiches silently. "The other reason I've gathered you here in private is because you all saw something that may put the identity and safety of one of your fellow students in danger." Peter stiffened at the words.

"As you saw," Tony took over, "Peter kicked ass, hands down. But, if you know anything about anything, you know that the way he did it was probably extremely familiar."

"He's Spider-Man," Flash stated. 

"Yes. Your classmate Peter Parker is the one and only Spider-Man. That's the main reason he works here in the tower- while he might not be official, he is an asset to the Avengers team. You all saw what he could do, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Now, I'm going to be blunt. If any of you reveal his identity, whether it be to one of your parents or the whole world, we will have problems. Peter saved your lives, risking his own neck, and he does it more often than you think. So, I ask that you respect the secrecy of the mask, or there will be consequences." The class rippled, each student shifting at the intensity of the genius man's gaze. 

"Guys, I'm here if you need me," Peter spoke up. They shifted their attention to him, and he grit his teeth. "I didn't choose this lifestyle. I never wanted this. But I have a responsibility to do what's right, and I take that on. But I try to keep it limited to when I'm in costume. Outside of costume, I'm the same kid you all know. The same geeky smart-mouthed trans kid with anxiety problems. I still like Star Wars and legos, and I have a collection of science pun teeshirts rivaled by none other than Tony Stark. All I'm asking is that if you want to talk about it, if you have a problem you need help with, I'll do it. Just don't out me, alright? Because then that puts a target on the backs of my family and friends, and any person who associates with me."

Standing, Peter made his way through the group of students to the hallway, in desperate need of fresh air. Not long after, Flash and Steve appeared. 

Steve nodded at the boys as he passed by, and Flash watched as he sauntered away. They stood in silence for far longer than Peter felt comfortable. What could Flash want? Would he tease him? Push him around? 

"I'm sorry." Peter blinked, mouth falling open slightly in surprise. "Look, I know I'm an asshole. I get off on it. But I have a lot of respect for Spider-Man. He- you- do a lot of stuff most of the world is too afraid to do. And I've been nothing but a dick. So, I'm sorry, and I totally get it if you tell me to piss off right now."

Peter looked up at the ceiling, mind swirling. He didn't want Flash to be afraid of him not liking him. He also didn't want Flash to be a dick anymore. So, he did the one thing he knew how to do best. 

"I... acknowledge and accept your apology, but... I don't think I can totally forgive you man. You are a dick. You've pushed me and taunted me and made me feel like shit for years, and I never do anything because I can take what you give, but not everybody can." Peter turned his eyes to the teen, the brown darkening to a deep, dark color that reminded Flash of fresh rain. "But I'm going to tell you right now- you know who I am and what I'm capable of. So that means you need to get your act together, because I refuse to allow you to act like a spoiled child forever."

Flash nodded. Without a word, he turned and went back into the room. Peter sighed and slid down the wall, puffing out a sigh. 

"I'm glad I decided to come after all," he said to nobody in particular.

 


End file.
